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il  llllljl' 


GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 
Engraved  by  G.  Kruell  from  the  painting  by  Gilbert  Stuart  in  the  Boston  Museum  of  Fine  Arts. 


IIAIU'EIVS  ^ 

NEW  MONTHLY  MACxAZINE. 


No.  CCCCI.-OCTOBEll,  1883.-YoL.  LXVII. 


LAST  DAYS  OF   WASHINGTON'S  ARMY  AT  NEWBURGH. 


THE  same  reasons  which  induced  Wash- 
ington to  make  liis  head-quai-ters  at 
Newburg'li  during'  the  hitter  part  of  tlie 
Eevohitionarv  war  made  it  an  important 
spot  from  tlie  outset  of  tlie  struggle.    New 
Enghmd,  througli  her  open  port  and  her 
own   resources,  furnished  the  cliief  mate- 
rial for  carrying  on  the  war.      The  Brit- 
ish, occupying  New  York  and  patrolling 
the  Hudson  up  to  the  Highlands,  out  ott' 
the  direct  communication  between  it  and 
the  army  under  Washington  in  New  Jer- 
sey and  Pennsylvania.      The  next  nearest 
^  route  w'as  by  way  of  Fishkill  and  New- 
=■  burgh.    Henceloaded  teams  were  constant- 
s  ly  arriving  at  the  former  i)lace,  which, 
being  ferried  across  the  river,  took  their 
tedious  way  back  of  the  Highlands  south 
'S~to  the  army. 

J  When  the  news  of  the  battle  of  York- 
11  town  and  surrender  of  Cornwallis  reach- 
J  ed  England,  the  government  seemed  para- 
lyzed. Lord  Germain  took  it  to  Lord 
North,  the  Prime  Minister,  and  when  ask- 
ed how  the  latter  received  it,  replied,  "As 
he  would  a  bullet  in  his  heart."  Fling- 
ing up  his  arms,  he  strode  backward  and 
forward  aci'oss  his  apartment,  exclaiming, 
^  "Oh  God,  it  is  all  over!  oh  God,  it  is  all 
j_  over! — it  is  all  over!"  Parliament  met  two 
ii:  days  after,  and  the  strength  of  the  oppo- 
sition  showed  that  iu  all  probability  it 
ivas  all  over.  The  news  of  this  state  of 
things  did  not  reach  this  country  till  win- 
ter, and  so,  as  soon  as  spring  opened, 
Washington,  leaving  Rochanibeau  to  pro- 
tect New  Jersey,  joined  the  American 
army  which  had  been  ordered  to  march  to 
Newburgh.  With  the  army  of  Cornwal- 
lis gone.  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  shut  up  in 
New  York,  was  in  a  condition  to  effect 
nothing  except  with  his  ships  up  tlie  Hud- 
son. This  river,  therefore,  must  be  pro- 
tected at  all  hazards,  for,  if  hostilities 
should  be  resumed,  its  possession  by  the 


enemy  would  be  fatal,  a.s  New  England 
would  1)0  separated  from  the  otlier  colo- 
nies, and  tlie  two  sections  could  bo  easily 
beaten  in  detail.  Once,  Burgoyn(>  liad 
almost  reached  Albany,  and  Clinton  bad 
forced  tlio  ])assago  of  the  Highlands  to  co- 
operate witli  him.  To  prevent  a  similar 
catastrophe  Washington  took  up  his  posi- 
tion at  Newburgh.  The  main  army  was 
encamped  .some  two  or  three  miles  l)ack, 
behind  a  morass,  which  Washington 
spanned  by  a  single  causeway.  The  house 
in  which  he  took  up  his  liead-quarters 
stands  on  a  bluff  that  overlooks  the  Hud- 
son for  eight  miles  to  West  Point.  Fi-om 
this  outlook  he  could  ascertain  at  once 
when  the  enemy's  ships  broke  through  the 
barriers  constructed  there  and  began  to 
ascend  the  river,  and  take  sucli  steps  as  he 
deemed  necessary.  The  house,  standing 
to-day  just  as  it  did  then,  is  a  rjuaiut  liuild- 
ing,  with  a  great  pointed  roof  much  high- 
er than  the  bodj'  of  the  house.  It  is  built 
of  stone,  with  walls  two  feet  thick,  and 
contains  six  rooms  besides  the  kitchen  on 
the  first  floor,  and  five  above.  The  roof 
is  sustained  by  long  timbers  of  red  cedar, 
rough  hewn,  which  to  this  day  give  out 
the  delicate  perfume  of  this  wood.  The 
main  room  on  the  fii'st  floor  is  low,  with 
heavy  rough-hewn  timbers  supporting  the 
floor  above,  and  is  known,  and  has  been 
for  a  century,  as  "the  room  with  seven 
doors  and  one  window."  On  one  side  is 
a  huge  open  Kre-plaoe  big  enough  to  roast 
an  ox,  and  on  the  heartii-stone  of  wliich 
one  can  look  \\\t  tlirough  the  tall  chiui- 
ney  and  see  the  sky  above. 

Some  three  miles  south,  back  on  the 
liigh  ground,  were  the  head-quarters  of 
Knox  and  Greene,  a  house  apparently 
modelled  in  its  exterior  after  tliat  occu- 
pied by  Washington.  Those  of  most  of 
the  other  generals  were  strung  along  on 
a  ridge  opposite  the  slope  on  which  lay 


Entered  accordiiiR  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1883,  by  Harper  and  Brothers,  In  the  Office  of  tho 
Xibrarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Vol.  LXVII.— No.  401.— 41 


2705!2f'> 


652 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


ENTRANCK    TO    WASHINGTON  S    HKAD-QUARTERS. 

encamped  the  army  in  huts.  Wayne's 
was  to  the  north  of  Newburgli.  Thus  it 
will  be  seen  that  Washington's  head-quar- 
ters, situated  on  a  bluff  sloping  down  to 
the  river,  was  to  the  other  head-quarters 
and  to  the  army  like  the  pivot  of  the  di- 
verging raj's  of  a  fan.  No  arrangement 
could  be  better  for  the  speedy  dispatch  of 
orders  to  every  part  of  the  army.  The 
history  of  the  army  during  the  year  and  a 
half  it  lay  here  may  be  divided  into  two 
parts — fir.st  the  year  of  leisure,  idleness, 
and  comparative  indifference,  and  the  last 
six  months  of  excitement,  filled  with  great 
events  until  the  army  disbanded.  Of 
course  as  the  prospects  of  peace  brighten- 
ed, the  strict  discipline  of  the  army  relax- 
ed, and  the  intercourse  of  the  army  with 
the  people  grew  more  intimate,  and  hence 
the  domestic  life  of  Washington  and  the  of- 
ficers became  better  known.  Consequent- 
ly many  incidents  of  a  private,  .social 
character  liave  been  handed  down  by  tra- 
dition. It  is  only  a  few  years  .since  two 
men,  one  a  major  in  the  artillery,  and 
the  other  a  member  of  Washington's  Life- 
Guard,  both  nearly  a  lumdred  years  old, 
died  a  few  miles  back  of  Newburgh,  one 
of  whom  has  grandchildren  still  living  in 
the  old  homestead.  As  to  Washington, 
the  routine  of  his  life  here  furnished  but 
little  incident.  His  breakfast  was  a  very 
informal  meal,  after  which  he  oi'dered  up 


his  horse,  and,  attended  by  an  orderly  oi- 
his  negro  servant  Bill,  rode  over  to  the 
head-quarters  of  some  of  his  generals. 
His  lunch  was  free  to  all  of  his  officers, 
but  the  dinner  at  five  was  a  veiy  formal 
affair,  and  every  guest  was  expected  to  ap- 
pear in  full  dress.  If  the  guests  had  not 
all  arrived  at  the  precise  hour,  he  waited 
five  minutes  to  allow  for  the  variation  in 
the  watches,  and  then  would  sit  down  to 
the  table.  The  chaplain,  if  present,  would 
say  grace;  if  not,  then  Washington  would 
say  it  himself,  he  and  all  the  guests  stand- 
ing. If  Hamilton  was  present  he  did  the 
honors  of  the  table;  if  not,  then  one  of  the 
aides-de-camp. 

The  dinner  usually  consisted  of  three 
courses — meat  and  vegetables,  followed  by 
some  kind  of  pastry,  and  last  hickory-nuts 
and  apples,  of  which  Washington  was  very 
fond.      The  meal  lasted  about  two  hours, 
when  the  table  was  cleared  off,  and  the 
leaves  taken  out  .so  as  to  allow  it  to  be  shut 
up    in   a   circle,  when    Mrs.  Washington 
presided,  and  from  her  own  silver  tea  serv- 
ice served  the  guests  with  tea  and  coffee, 
which  were  handed  round  by  black  serv- 
ants.    Supper  was  at  nine,  and  the  table 
remained  spread  till  eleven.     It  consisted 
of  three  or  four  light  dishes,  with  fruit 
and  walnuts.      When  the  cloth  was  re-  . 
moved  each  guest  in  turn  was  called  on 
for  a  toast,  which  was  drank  by  all,  fol- 
lowed by  conversation,  toasts,  and  gener-  . 
al    conviviality.     General    Chastellux,  a  ' 
member    of   the    French    Academy,   who 
came  out  with  Rochambeau  as  his  aide, 
with  the  rank  of  major-general,  travelled 
over  the  country,  and  published  an    ac- 
count of  his  travels.     In  this  he  speaks  of 
his  visits  to  Washington,  and   describes 
these   entertainments   as    delightful,  and 
says  that  "General  Washington  toasted 
and  conversed  all  the  while,"  and  adds, 
"The  nuts  are  served  half  open,  and  the 
company  are  never  done  eating  and  pick- 
ing  them."     Washington    entertained    a 
great  deal.      Not  only  French  otEcers,  but 
the  leading  .statesmen  of  the  country  visit- 
ed him  to  consult  on  the  state  of  affairs. 
Baron    Steuben's   head-quarters  were  on 
the  Fishkill  side  of  the  river,  and  he  fre- 
quently came  over  to  drill  the  Life-Guard 
in  military  tactics,  with  a  view  of  making 
officers  of  them,  should  the  war  continue. 
Their  encampment  was  just  back  of  head- 
quarters. 

On  these  occasions  he  was  accustomed 
to  dine  with  Washington.      Once  several 


LAST  DAYS  OF  WASHINGTON'S  ARMY  AT  NEWBURGH.  653 


WASmXi'luN  S    HKAIM^rAKIKKS    A  1'    .SK  W  HI  IKill. 


guests  were  present,  and  anionfr  tliem 
Robert  Morris,  who  had  come  up  to  con- 
sult with  Washington  about  tlie  state' of 
the  finances.  During  the  dinner  lie  spoke 
very  bitterly  of  the  banlirupt  condition  of 
the  Treasury,  and  his  utter  inability  to 
replenish  it,  when  Steuben  said,  "Why, 
are  you  not  financier?  Wliy  do  you  not 
create  funds  ?" 

"  I  have  done  all  I  can,"'  replied  Morris, 
"and  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  do  more." 

"What!"  said  the  baron  ;  "you  remain 


financier  wifhout  finances  !  Tlien  I  do  not 
tliink  you  as  lionest  a  man  as  my  cook. 
He  came  to  me  one  day  at  Valley  Forge, 
and  said,  '  Baron,  I  am  yoin-  cook,  and  you 
have  nothing'  to  cook  but  a  piece  of  lean 
beef,  which  is  liung  up  l\v  a  string  before 
the  fire.  Your  wagoner  can  turn  the 
string,  and  do  as  well  as  I  can.  You  have 
promised  me  ten  dollars  a  niontli;  but  as 
you  have  nothing  to  cook.  I  wish  to  be  dis- 
charged, and  not  longer  be  chargeable  to 
you.'     That  is  an  honest  fellow,  Morris." 


654 


HAEPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


Morris  did  not  join  very  heartily  in  the 
laugli  that  followed. 

On  another  occasion  Mrs.  Washington, 
with  whom  he  was  a  great  favorite,  asked 
him  how  he  contrived  to  amuse  himself 
over  at  Fishkill,  so  much  alone. 

"Oh,"'  said  he,  "I  read  and  write,  my 
lady,  and  play  chess;  and  yesterday  for 
the  first  time  I  went  fishing.  They  told 
me  it  was  very  fine  business  to  catch  fish, 
and  I  did  not  know  but  this  new  trade 
might  be  useful  to  me  by-and-by;  but  I 
fear  I  shall  not  succeed.  I  sat  in  the  boat 
three  hours.  It  was  exceedingly  warm, 
and  I  caught  but  two  fish.  They  told  me 
it  was  fine  sport." 

"  What  kind  of  fish  did  you  catch,  bar- 
on ?"'  she  asked. 

"I  am  not  sure,  my  lady,"  he  replied; 
''but  they  called  one  of  them  a  whale,  I 
believe." 

"A  whale,  barou,  in  the  North  River!" 
she  exclaimed,  in  apparent  surprise. 

"  Yes,  I  assure  you;  a  ver.y  fine  whale, 
my  lady.  Was  it  not  ?"  he  asked,  turning 
to  one  of  his  aides. 

"An  eel,  baron,"  was  the  reply. 

"I  beg  your  ))ardon,  my  lady,  but  the 
gentleman  certainly  told  me  it  wa.s  a 
whale." 

A  bur.st  of  laughter  followed,  in  which 
none  joined  more  heartily  than  Washing- 
ton. 

Washington  was  accustomed  to  hold  a 
levee  every  week,  while  the  officers  took 
turns  in  giving  evening  parties;  and  not 
to  mortify  those  who  were  too  poor  to 
furnish  expensive  entertainments,  it  was 
resolved  that  they  should  consist  only  of 
apples  and  nuts.  There  was  no  dancing 
or  amusement  of  any  kind  except  sing- 
ing. Every  lady  or  gentleman  who  could 
sing  was  called  upon  for  a  song.  Once 
Mrs.  Knox  broke  over  the  rule,  and  gave 
wliat  at  that  time  was  considered  a  grand 
ball,  which  Washington  opened  with  the 
beautiful  Maria  Golden  of  Coldenham. 
She  and  Gitly  Wynkoop  and  Sally  Jan- 
sen,  the  latter  two  living  near  Old  Paltz, 
were  great  belles  in  the  spar.sely  settled 
country,  and  the  three  wrote  their  names 
on  a  window-glass  with  a  diamond  ring, 
and  there  they  remain  to  this  daj'. 

Clinton,  it  is  known,  made  many  at- 
tempts to  capture  Washington,  believing 
that  if  he  was  taken  prisoner  the  war 
would  be  brought  to  a  successful  close. 
He  well  knew  that  he  was  the  pillar  of  fire 
by  night  and  the  pillar  of  cloud  by  day  to 


the  struggling  patriots,  and  that  the  news 
of  his  being  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of 
the  British  would  not  only  totally  dis- 
hearten the  impoverished  colonists,  but 
palsy  the  energies  of  their  friends  in  the 
English  Parliament.  How  many  schemes 
were  attempted  we  shall  probably  never 
know.  We  only  know  that  Washington 
received  many  letters  warning  him  of  his 
danger.  He  doubtless  had  many  narrow 
escapes,  the  plans  of  the  enemy  being 
thwarted  either  by  the  warning  that  he 
received,  orfrom  unforeseen  circumstances 
— all  the  work  of  that  Divine  Providence 
that  from  his  first  entrance  into  the  army 
had  watched  over  him.  That  he  has 
not  left  a  record  of  some  of  these  in  de- 
tail is  not  very  singular  when  we  re- 
member the  character  of  the  man  ;  but 
the  following  has  been  handed  down  by 
the  inhabitants  residing-  near  these  head- 
quarters at  the  time.  No  road  at  this  pe- 
riod ran  along  the  I'iver  fi-om  Newburgh 
south  to  New  Windsor,  though  both  are 
on  its  shore,  and  only  a  mile  apart.  A 
bold  bluff'  one  hundred  feet  or  more  high 
made  an  almost  precipitous  descent  to  the 
river  nearly  the  entire  way,  rendering  the 
construction  of  a  road  a  very  difficult  and 
expensive  work.  But  midway  between 
the  two  places  the  Quassaick  Creek  burst 
through  this  heavily  wooded  blutf,  and 
plunged  into  the  river  between  banks 
more  than  a  hundred  feet  high,  revealing 
a  dark  and  gloomy  gorge. 

Two  or  three  hundred  feet  from  the 
shore  this  chasm  swung  back  on  one  side 
in  a  huge  semicircle,  inclosing  a  sweet 
little  valley  which  is  known  as  the  Vale 
of  Avoca.  In  this  secluded  valley  lived 
a  man  named  Ettrick.  Behind  his  house 
the  hill  rose  gradually,  and  stretched  away 
to  the  west,  the  chasm  gradually  lessen- 
ing in  depth,  till  at  the  distance  of  lialf  a 
mile  or  more  it  became  so  low  and  nar- 
row that  it  was  spanned  by  a  bridge. 
Though  Ettrick's  house  lay  within  short 
cannon-shot  of  Washington's  headquar- 
ters,  and  in  a  line  almo.st  directly  south, 
and  about  the  same  distance  from  the  riv- 
er, it  required  a  circuit  of  nearly  two  miles 
to  reach  it  by  road.  Tlie  tide  set  up  the 
creek  close  to  the  dwelling,  and  a  boat 
fi'om  it  could  be  sent  by  strong  rowers  into 
the  Hudson  in  five  or  ten  minutes.  In  an 
hour  more  it  could  be  carried  into  the 
gorge  of  the  Highlands,  and  in  less  than 
an  hour  after  to  the  British  ships  that  lay 
j  below  West  Point.      In  fact,  a  boat  well 


MARTnA    WASHINGTON. From  purtrnil  by  Gilbtrt  Stimrt. 


656 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


'm^-- 


VALE    OF    AVOCA. 


manned  could  get  witliin  Britisli  protec- 
tion ill  less  than  two  liours  after  leaving 
Ettrick's  house.  It  will  be  seen,  therefore, 
that  if  Washington  could  be  decoyed  into 
Ettrick's  house  and  captured,  be  would  be 
under  the  British  guns  before  ever  he  was 
missed  at  his  own  head-quarters.  The  plan 
was  to  have  a  strong  guard  come  up  in  the 
uight  and  lie  concealed  in  this  gloomy 
gorge,  and  seize  Washington  while  at  din- 
ner in  Ettrick's  house,  to  which  he  had 
been  invited.  Ettrick  professed  to  be  a 
warm  patriot,  though  some  looked  on  him 
with  suspicion.  Whether  he  was  really 
a  traitor  from  sympathy  with  tlie  Tories 
or  became  corrupted  h\  British  gold  is  not 
known .  He  was  v  isited  steal th  ily  Ijy  Tories, 
and  his  daughter  overheard  them  talking 
together  one  day  about  taking  Washington 
prisoner.  Soon  after,  her  father  told  her 
that  he  had  invited  Washington  to  dine 
with  him  on  a  certain  day.  She  immedi- 
ately connected  this  with  the  conversation 
she  had  overheard,  and  suspected  it  was  a 
plot  to  capture  Washington.  She  at  once 
sought  a  private  audience  with  the  latter, 


and  telling  him  her  suspicions,  requested 
him  not  to  come  to  dinner.  He,  howev- 
er, detei-mined  to  ascertain  definitely  if 
there  was  such  a  black-hearted  traitor 
within  his  lines,  and  within  hearing  of  the 
bugles  of  his  own  head-quarters.  So  on 
the  day  apjiointed  he  rode  around  to  Et- 
trick's, but  ordered  a  detachment  of  his 
Life-Guard,  dressed  in  English  uniform, 
to  follow  at  some  distance,  and  nevei-  lose 
.sight  of  the  house,  and  at  about  the  dinner 
hour,  which  was  late,  to  march  up  to  it. 
They  did  so,  and  Ettrick,  mistaking  them 
for  tlie  British  and  Tories,  stepped  up  to 
Washington,  and  laying  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder,  said,  "General,  I  believe  you 
are  my  prisoner !"  "I believe  not,  sir ;  but 
you  are  mine!"  was  the  reply,  as  the  Life- 
Guard  filed  rapidly  into  the  room.  He 
was  immediately  marched  off  and  locked 
up.  This  threw  the  daughter  into  a  par- 
oxysm of  g'rief.  She  had  not  anticipated 
such  a  result.  She  had  given  no  positive 
information — simply  told  her  suspicions 
to  Washington,  and  asked  him  to  stay 
away  from  dinner.     She  did  it  to  save 


LAST  DAYS  OF  WASHINGTON'S  ARMY  AT  NEWBURGH. 


<)57 


Wasliington  and  spare  her  father,  but  not 
to  bring'  the  hitter  to  the  galhiws;  and  slie 
besought  the  former  not  to  I'epay  her  fidel- 
ity by  luinging'  her  fathei'.  If  it  had  been 
a  personal  matter  he  could  easily  have  for- 
given it.  but  the  blow  was  aimed  at  liis  eoun- 
try,  aiul  that  he  would  not  have  forgiven 
in  an  only  son.  Still,  every  instinct  of 
his  heart  revolted  against  rewarding  so 
cruelly  the  devotion  of  the  daughter.  His 
whole  noble,  chivalric  nature  was  aroused 
when  she  besought  h  im  not  to  repay  hei'  for 
saving  his  life  by  devoting  her  to  a  fate  in- 
linitely  worse  than  death.  It  was  an  act 
that  it  was  sim])ly  impossible  for  him  to  do, 
and  though  terriljly  pressed  by  the  sense 
of  duty  to  his  country,  he  resolved  to  keep 
the  whole  matter  secret,  except  perhaps  as 
he  consulted  with  a  few  personal  friends, 
and  released  the  traitor  on  the  condition 
of  his  leaving  the  country.  This  he  ac- 
cepted, and  fled  to  Nova  Scotia,  and  no- 
thing is  known  of  his  subsequent  fate. 

There  has  been  some  question  as  to  the 
truth  of  the  above  legend,  on  the  ground 
that  so  important  an  event  in  Washing- 
ton's life  would  have  been  on  recoi-d,  and 
not  be  a  mere  local  tradition.  But,  in  the 
first  place,  Washington  would  naturally 
have  taken  special  pains  to  keep  it  from 
publicity,  so  that  if  it  ever  saw  the  light  it 
must  be  through  tradition.  He  was  placed 
in  a  perplexing  position  in  which  duty 
and  honor  stood  arrayed  against  each  otli- 
er,  and  lie  had  to  choose  between  the  two. 
The  treason  of  Arnold  was  still  fresh  in 
the  heart  of  the  army  and  jjeople,  and 
neither  Congress  nor  himself  would  be 
able  to  resist  the  demand  for  vengeance. 
Hence  it  was  important  that  the  incident 
should  be  kept  secret,  and  it  was.     After- 


ward more  important  events  and  the  con- 
clusion of  peace  would  luiturally  drive  it 
out  of  the  minds  of  tlie  few  who  knew  it,  or 
they,  knowing  Washington's  wi:4lies  on  the 
subject,  did  not  sjjcak  of  it.  No  one  look- 
ing at  the  spot,  and  taking  in  the  whole 
situation,  would  doulit  its  probability.  The 
completeness  of  the  plan  shows  it  to  have 
been  carefully  studied.  Besides,  the  tra- 
dition is  as  well  authenticated  as  any  of 
those  connected  with  the  old  head-quarters 
which  have  been  incorporated  into  the  ac- 
cepted history  of  those  times.  He  had 
doubtless  many  other  quite  as  narrow  es- 
capes, which  even  tradition  has  not  pre- 
.served,  and  which  find  no  place  in  history. 

Besides  the  levees  held  by  Washington 
once  a  week,  and  the  social  gatherings  in- 
augurated and  given  to  amuse  the  officers, 
he  issued  an  order  recommending  to  the 
troops  to  make  regimental  gardens  for  the 
purpose  of  raising  greens  and  vegetables  for 
their  own  use.  Passes  were  given  to  the 
soldiers  to  range  the  country  for  seeds,  and 
advertisements  were  inserted  in  the  papers 
forthem  to  be  delivered  to  the  quarter-mas- 
ter to  be  equally  distributed.  Washing- 
ton's wife  set  the  example,  and  had  a  large 
vegetable  garden  laid  out  on  one  side  of 
these  head-quarters  and  a  flower  garden  on 
the  other,  both  of  which  she  superintended 
herself.  Remains  of  the  brick-lined  paths 
of  the  latter  were  visible  till  within  a  few 
years. 

But  as  the  months  went  on  and  the  pros- 
pects of  peace  became  more  certain,  this 
social  everyday  life  and  these  quiet  occu- 
pations were  overshadowed  by  moment- 
ous events  on  which  hung  the  destiny  of 
the  counti'y.  Both  officers  and  men  were 
getting  very  restless  over  the  prospect  be- 


VIEW    SOUTHWARD    FROM    WASFIINOTON  S    HEAD-QUARTERS. 


658 


HAEPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


fore  them,  and  indignant  at  the  neglect 
of  Congress  to  par  them  their  wages  and 
provide  for  their  wants,  while  tlieir  fam- 
ilies were  suffering  at  home.  Murniur- 
ings  deep  and  loud  were  constantly  borne 
to  Washington's  ears,  till  he  became 
alarmed.  Many  of  liis  best  officers  shared 
his  anxiety.  Now,  just  as  day  was  dawn- 
ing and  independence  about  to  be  secured, 
everything  seemed  to  be  tumbling  in 
chaos  about  them,  threatening  a  state  of 
things  worse  than  their  former  condition 
as  colon i.sts.  In  the  uncertainty  and 
dread  which  surrounded  them  the  officers 
instinctively  turned  to  Washington  for 
safety.  A  paper  embodying  their  views 
was  drawn  up,  and  Colonel  Nicola — an  old 
officer  held  in  high  esteem  and  confidence 
by  Washington — was  selected  to  present 
it.  Riding  up  to  the  head-quarters  one 
morning,  he  asked  to  see  Washington  on 
important  business.  Conducted  into  his 
presence,  he  presented  him  with  the  paper. 
This  document,  after  describing  the  peril- 
ous state  of  feeling  in  the  army  and  the 
dangerous  aspect  of  affairs,  and  showing 
the  necessity  of  settling  at  once  on  a  form 
of  government,  now  peace  was  assured, 
showing  also  that  it  must  be  a  strong  one, 
took  up  the  several  forms  of  government 
in  the  world,  discussed  the  good  and  bad 
features  of  each,  and  summed  up  by  de- 
claring that  a  republican  government  was  i 
the  most  unstable  and  insecure  of  all,  and 
a  constitutional  monarchy,  with  certain 
modifications,  like  that  of  England,  the 
strongest  and  the  safest;  and  continued,  \ 
"such  being  tlie  fact,  it  is  plain  that  the  ! 
same  abilities  which  have  led  us  through 
difficulties  a])parently  insurmountable  by 
human  power  to  victory  and  glory,  those 
qualities  that  have  merited  and  obtained 
the  universal  esteem  and  veneration  of 
the  army,  would  be  most  likely  to  con- 
duct and  direct  us  in  the  smoother  path 
of  peace."  In  short,  it  declared  that  he 
alone  could  uphold  the  nation  he  had 
saved  by  his  valor,  and  offered  to  make 
him  dictator,  and  concluded  by  saying 
that,  "owing  to  the  prejudices  of  the  peo- 
ple, it  might  not  at  fti'st  be  prudent  to  as- 
sume the  title  of  royalty,  but  if  all  other 
things  were  adjusted,  we  believe  strong  ar- 
guments miglit  be  produced  for  admitting 
the  title  of  king."  When  Washington 
had  read  this  paper  the  light  died  out  of 
his  eyes,  and  a  look  of  inexpressible  sad- 
ness stole  over  his  countenance.  Had 
he  borne  and  suffered  so  much  for  these 


seven  long  years  to  have  it  all  end  in  this  ? 
The  emotions  that  crowded  his  heart  and 
shook  his  strong  soul  to  its  centre  may  bo 
gathered  from  the  sudden  burst  of  indig- 
nation with  which  this  proposition  to 
make  him  king  was  received.  "  Sir,"  said 
he,  "it  is  with  a  nuxture  of  surjjrise  and 
astonishment  I  have  read  the  sentiments 
you  have  submitted  to  my  perusal.  Be 
assured,  sir,  no  occurrences  in  the  course  of 
the  war  have  given  me  more  painful  sensa- 
tions than  your  information  of  there  being 
such  ideas  existing  in  the  army  as  you  have 
expressed,  and  which  I  miist  view  with 
abhorrence  and  reprehend  with  severity. 
I  am  much  at  a  loss  to  conceive  what  part 
of  my  conduct  could  have  given  encour- 
agement to  an  address  which  to  me  seems 
big  with  the  greatest  mischief  that  can  be- 
fall my  country.  If  I  am  not  deceived 
in  the  knowledge  of  myself,  you  could 
not  have  found  a  person  to  whom  your 
schemes  are  more  disagreeal)le.  Let  me 
conjure  you,  then,  as  you  have  regard  for 
your  country,  for  your.self,  or  posterity,  or 
respect  for  me,  to  banish  these  thoughts 
from  your  mind." 

When  one  reflects  how  evenly  balanced 
and  self-controlled  Washington's  nature 
was,  he  can  conceive  somewhat  how  terri- 
bly moved  he  must  have  been  when  he 
exclaimed,  "it  is  with  a  mixture  of  sur- 
prise and  astonishment"  that  he  has  heard 
such  sentiments  expressed.  Though  he 
had  suffered  long  and  deeply,  and  at  times 
stood  the  only  pillar  of  lire  that  towered 
through  the  impenetrable  darkness,  when 
hope  had  died  out  of  all  other  hearts,  yet 
"no  occurrences"  through  all  those  years 
of  distress  and  gloom  had  given  him 
"more  painful  sensations."  That  which 
in  all  other  military  chieftains  would 
have  awakened  pride  and  exultation,  fills 
him  with  sorrow  and  indignation.  The 
compliments  with  which  they  accompa- 
nied their  proposal  were  to  his  soul  of  hon- 
or insults.  To  suffer  and  die  for  his  coun- 
try was  his  pride  and  glory  ;  to  betray 
her,  a  crime  beyond  his  imagination  to  con- 
ceive. But  all  those  niingled  emotions  give 
way  before  the  terrible  peril  that  threatens 
"his  country,"  and  there  comes  back  like 
a  mournful  refrain,  "  the  greatest  nuschief 
that  can  befall  my  country."  History 
furnishes  no  parallel  to  this,  and  the  little 
room  in  which  he  penned  this  immortal 
letter  should  be  consecrated  forever. 

In  Independence  Hall,  in  Philadelphia, 
was  settled  the  question  of  national  iude- 


LAST  DAYS  OF  WASHINGTON'S  ARMY  AT  NEWBURGH. 


059 


ASHINr.TON    UKFL'SINC    A    DICTATOUSHIr. 


pendence;  in  these  old  liead-qiiarters  it 
was  decided  whether  we  should  be  a  re- 
public or  not.  No  spot  on  earth  rep- 
resents a  more  momentous  event,  or  one 
more  worthy  to  live   in  eternal  remem- 


brance in  the  hearts  of  the  people  of  this 
country. 

But  Washington  by  his  lofty  patriot- 
ism had  warded  off  one  danger  to  his 
country  only  to  be  confronted  by  one  still 


660 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


OLD    ELLISON    HOUSE.* 


more  appalling.  He  had  been  offered 
the  kiug.ship  and  refused :  the  army  must 
now  look  to  itself  for  protection.  He 
■would  not  go  with  them:  then  they  must 
go  on  without  him.  The  army  with  its 
pay  withheld.  Congress  deaf  to  its  peti- 
tions and  indifferent  to  its  wants,  and  yet 
its  dissolution  near,  Avhen  it  would  he 
powerless  to  act,  grew  wrathful  and  mu- 
tinous. 

Washington  heard  the  deep  mutter- 
ings  of  the  gathering  storm  around  him. 
The  following  strong  language,  in  a  let- 
ter to  the  Secretary  of  War,  shows  how 
imminent  was  the  peril  and  how  deeply 
he  was  moved.  Said  he:  "Under  pre- 
sent circumstances,  when  I  see  a  num- 
ber of  men  goaded  by  a  thousand  stings 
of  i-eflections  on  the  past  and  anticipa- 
tions of  the  future  about  to  be  turned  on 
the  world,  forced  by  i)enury  and  by  what 
they  call  the  ingratitude  of  the  public, 
involved  in  debt,  without  one  farthing 
to  carry  them  home,  after  sjiending  the 
flower  of  their  days,  and  many  of  them 
their  patrimonies,  in  establishing  the  free- 
dom of  their  country,  and  suffering  ev- 
erything  this   side  death — I  repeat   it — 

*  Twice  during  tlie  war,  Washington,  while  on  a 
visit  to  that  wing  ot  tlie  army  operating  in  tlie 
Highland.*,  made  the  old  Ellison  liouse  in  New 
Windsor  his  liead-quarters  for  a  short  time.  But 
the  mansion  lias  long  since  disappeared,  and  the 
old  lioniestead  been  converted  into  a  Ijriek-vard. 


when  I  consider  these  irritating  circum- 
stances, without  one  thing  to  soothe  their 
feelings  or  dispel  their  prospects,  I  can 
not  avoid  apprehending  that  a  train  of 
evils  will  follow  of  a  very  serious  and  dis- 
tressing nature. . .  .  You  may  rely  vipon  it 
the  patriotism  and  long-suffering  of  this 
army  is  well-nigh  exhausted,  and  there 
never  was  so  great  a  spirit  of  discontent 
as  at  present.  "  What  a  terrible  state  of 
things  must  have  existed  that  could  wring 
such  strong  language  from  the  prudent, 
self-contained  Washington,  and  what  an 
extraordinary  position  did  this  man  oc- 
cupy I  When  his  faithful  army,  in  view 
of  their  suti'ering  condition  and  the  help- 
lessness or  indifference  of  the  govern- 
ment, asked  him  to  become  king  and  take 
charge  of  them  and  the  country,  he  turned 
on  them  with  a  fierceness  that  was  appall- 
ing, as  if  they  were  traitors  to  freedom. 
The  next  moment  lie  turned  on  that  gov- 
ernment with  equal  sternness  for  its  cruel 
treatment  of  that  army  of  long-suffering, 
nolile  patriots.  He  stood  alone  between 
a  starving  mutinous  army  on  the  one 
side  and  an  inetiHcient  blind  Congress  on 
the  other,  assailing  and  defending  both 
by  turns,  and  with  a  lofty  patriotism  and 
far-seeing  wisdom,  acting  only  for  his 
countrj-.  But  his  appeals  to  both  were  of 
no  avail,  and  as  winter  with  its  increas- 
ing suffering  came  on,  the  low  rumbling 
of  the  coming  earthquake  grew  louder, 


LAST  DAYS  OF  WASHINGTON'S  ARMY  AT  NEWBURGH. 


(;61 


and  fearful  of  a  (•onvulsion  tliat  would 
bury  everything-  in  indiscriminate  ruin, 
he  got  the  officers  to  assemble  and  a])- 
point  a  committee  to  visit  Congress  and 
lay  before  it  tlieir  grievances  and  ask  for 
redress.  But  Congress,  tliough  full  of  con- 
ditional promises,  refused  to  do  anything 
till  the  separate  States  were  consulted, 
which  meant,  of  course,  till  peace  was  se- 
cured and  the  army  disbanded  and  i)ow- 
erless. 

When  this  committee  returned  and  re- 
ported its  ill  success,  the  murmuring  grew 
louder  and  deeper,  and  Washington  saw 
an  abyss  opening  before  him  whose  depths 
lie  could  not  fatlumi.  What  shape  the 
dark  shadow  of  coming'  evil  would  take 
he  did  not  know;  he  only  knew  it  was 
near  at  hand.  At  last  it  took  defliiite 
form.  (_)ne  day  a  paper  was  handed  him 
that  had  been  freely  circulated  through 
the  army,  calling  on  the  officers  to  assem- 
ble the  next  day  at  the  "Temple"  to  de- 
cide on  the  measures  the  army  should 
take  in  tlie  ])resent  disastrous  condition 
of  thing's.  Tliis  paper  bore  no  signature, 
but  was  evidently  written  by  an  able  hand, 


and  was  well  ada))ted  to  arouse  and  kin- 
dle into  conllagi-ation  tlie  smouldering 
lires  in  the  army.  This  was  plainly  the 
purj)ose  of  the  writer.  He  Ix'gan  by  stat- 
ing liow  ineffectual  had  been  tlieir  ajipeal 
to  Congress,  and  declared  that  the  gov- 
erniii(>nt  had  .shown  itself  totally  inditVer- 
eiit  to  their  rights,  and  it  was  folly  to 
trust  longer  to  its  sense  of  justice,  saying, 
"Faith  has  its  limits  as  well  as  its  tem- 
per, and  there  are  points  beyond  which 
neither  can  be  stretched  without  sinking 
into  cowardice  or  plunging  into  creduli- 
ty." He  then  took  a  rapid  survey  of  the 
past,  spoke  of  their  devotion  to  their 
country,  their  unparalleled  sutl'erings  and 
hardships  endured  without  a  murmur, 
and  then  in  a  series  of  scornful  questions 
asked  them  how  they  had  been  rewarded. 
After  arousing  their  indignation  with  this 
recital  of  their  wrongs,  and  the  contemjit- 
uous  treatment  witli  which  their  humble 
petitions  had  been  received,  he  burst  forth : 
"  If  this  be  your  treatment  while  the 
swords  you  wear  are  necessary  to  the  pro- 
tection of  your  country,  what  have  you 
to   expect  from   peace   when   your  voice 


INTERIOR   OF    WASHINGTON'S    IIEAn-QCARTERS, 


662 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


r 


THE    TEMPLE. 


shall  sink  and  your  strength  dissipate  by 
division,  when  those  very  swords,  the  in- 
struments and  companions  of  your  glory, 
shall  be  taken  from  your  sides,  and  no  re- 
maining mark  of  your  military  distinc- 
tion left  you  but  your  infirmities  and 
scars  ?  Can  you  consent  to  retire  from 
the  field  and  grow  old  in  poverty,  wretch- 
edness, and  contempt  ?  Can  you  consent 
to  wade  through  the  vile  mire  of  depend- 
ency, and  owe  the  remnant  of  that  life  to 
charity  which  has  hitherto  been  spent  in 
honor?  If  you  can,  go  and  carry  with 
you  the  Jest  of  Tories,  the  scorn  of  ^^ll  igs, 
and.  n-hat  is  icorse,  the  pitij  of  the  world. 
Go,  .starve  and  be  forgotten."  Growing 
bold  in  his  indignation,  he  swooped  down 
on  Washington  himself,  and  exclaims, 
" SusjKct  the  man  ivho  wonhl  advise  to 
more  moderation  and  longer  forbear- 
ance." 

"If  you  revolt  at  this,''  he  added,  "and 
would  oppose  tyranny  under  whatever 
garb  it  may  assume,  awake,  attend  to  your 
situation,  and  redeem  yourselves.  If  the 
present  moment  be  lost,  every  future  ef- 
fort will  be  in  vain,  and  your  threats  will 
be  empt}^  as  your  entreaties  are  now. "'  He 
closed  this  stirring  appeal  with  this  dire- 
ful proposition :  ' '  Tell  Congress  that  with 
them  rests  the  responsibility  of  the  future ; 
that  if  peace  retnr)is.  notliing  but  deatli 
shall  separate  you  from  your  arms;  if 
the  ivar  continues,  you  ivill  retire  to  some 
unsettled  country  to  smile  in  turn,  and 
'  mock  ichen  their  fear  cometh.'  " 


These  fiery  words  fell  on  the  excited 
feelings  of  the  army  like  fire  on  gun- 
powder. A  frightful  gulf  had  opened  at 
the  very  feet  of  Washington,  and  he  gazed 
with  a  beating  heart  and  like  one  stunned 
into  its  gloomy  depths.  The.sg  Ijrave  men 
whom  he  had  borne  on  his  great  heart 
these  seven  long  years  were  asked  to  throw 
him  overboard  at  last!  Must  it  be,  then, 
that  the  stormy  and  bloody  road  they  had 
travelled  together  so  long  was  to  end  in 
this  awful  abyss  in  which  home  and  coun- 
try and  honor  wei-e  to  go  down  in  one 
black  ruin  ?  Ashe  looked  on  the  appalling 
prospect  his  heart  sank  within  him,  and 
he  afterward  said  it  was  "the  darkest  day 
of  his  life."'  Not  in  the  gloomy  encamp- 
ment of  Valley  Forge,  when  he  gazed  on  his 
half-naked,  starving  army  dying  around 
him.  did  the  future  look  so  hopeless.  No 
lost  battle-field  ever  bore  so  terrible  an 
aspect.  But  what  was  to  bo  done  ?  The 
meeting  had  been  called  for  the  next  day, 
so  that  there  would  be  no  time  for  passion 
to  subside  or  cooler  counsels  to  prevail. 
Should  he  forbid  the  meeting,  as  he  had 
the  power  to  do?  No;  the  army  was  in 
no  temper  to  submit  to  dictation.  Besides, 
if  he  did,  the  evil  would  not  be  remedied. 
He  must  have  something  more  than  obe- 
dience; he  must  win  back  the  love  and 
confidence  of  the  army,  or  all  would  be 
lost.  He  well  knew  that  when  that  army 
once  broke  away  from  him  in  anger  and 
defiance,  nothing  but  the  blackness  of  des- 
olation awaited  his  country.      With  that 


LAST  DAYS  OF  WASHINGTON'S  ARMY  AT  NEWBURGH. 


wonderful  sagacity  which  in  liini  seemoil 
like  prophecy,  he  simply  issued  an  order 
postponino:  the  nieetiiig-  until  Saturday, 
four  days  in  advance,  and  designating  tlie 
rank  of  the  officers  that  should  compose  it. 
This  would  give  liim  time  to  mature  liis 
plans.  He  then  summoned  to  liis  head- 
quarters his  most  trusted  oflicers  to  con- 
sult on  the  proper  course  of  action.  It 
was  a  cold,  chilly  day,  and  the  great  open 
fire-place  was  heaped  witli  Ijlazing  logs, 


ton  should  attend  tlie  meeting  and  open 
it  in  per.son.  Tliis  deferring  tlie  meeting 
till  passion  could  suhside,  and  tlie  resolu- 
tion to  'practically  lake  charge  of  it  in 
person,  was  a  grand  stroke  of  policy.  It 
broke  the  whole  force  of  the  movement  at 
the  outset. 

The  morning  of  the  inth  of  March  dawn- 
ed sombre  and  bleak,  and  the  leaden  clouds 
hung  lieavy  and  dark  over  the  wintry 
landscape.     The    snow  .still   lay    on    the 


HEAD-QCARTERS    OF    GK.NKK.^LS    K.SOX    A.M)    GKKKXE    AT    VAIL    liATE. 


before  which  Washington  was  slowly  pa- 
cing when  the  generals,  one  after  anoth- 
er, rode  u])  and  dismounted  at  the  door. 
Wayne,  Putnam,  and  Sullivan  entered 
one  after  another,  Steuben  rode  up  from 
over  the  river,  and  Knox  and  Greene  from 
New  Windsor,  and  othei-s,  until  they  form- 
ed a  noble  grouj)  around  their  great  chief- 
tain. Of  that  deliberation  no  record  has 
come  down  to  us,  but  if  the  walls  of  the 
old  room  could  speak,  they  would  utter 
words  of  noble  devotion  and  patriotism 
that  would  stir  the  heart  like  a  trumpet 
calL      It  was  determined  that  Wa.shing- 


mountain-tops  and  in  the  deej)  hollows  as 
Washington  and  his  staff  turned  away 
from  the.se  head-quarters  and  began  slow- 
ly to  climb  the  hill  back  of  Newburgh  to- 
ward the  "  Temple,"  a  frame  building  that 
stood  in  an  open  clearing.  It  was  a  large 
structure  which  had  been  erected  as  a  i)lace 
of  worshi])  for  the  army.  As  he  a))proach- 
ed  it,  absorbed  in  painful,  an.xious  thought, 
he  saw  the  open  s])ace  around  it  filled  with 
horses  in  military  trappings  lield  by  order- 
lies or  hitched  to  the  trees,  showing  that 
the  oflicers  had  already  assembled.  On 
an  opposite  ridge  across  a  morass,  peeping 


664 


HAEPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


out  from  among  the  trees,  were  scattered 
the  huts  of  the  encampment,  where  the 
army,  half  clad,  half  starved,  and  unpaid, 
lay  murmuring'  and  discontented.  His 
eye  rested  for  a  moment  upon  them  with 
a  sad  expression;  then,  dismounting  and 
handing  his  liorse  to  an  orderly,  he  enter- 
ed the  huilding,  packed  with  an  anxious, 
waiting  audience.  Every  eye  was  turned 
as  that  tall  majestic  form  passed  through 
the  door  and  moved  toward  the  raised  plat- 
form at  the  otlier  end  of  the  room.  His 
heavy  footfall  on  the  uncarpeted  floor  fell 
clear  and  distinct  as  the  blows  of  a  ham- 
mer in  the  profound  silence.  As  he 
stepped  upon  it  and  turned  around  and 
cast  his  ej-e  over  the  assembly,  the  pain- 
ful sadness  of  liis  face  showed  that  his 
great  heart  was  stirred  to  its  profoundest 
depths,  and  sent  a  thrill  of  sympathy 
through  the  room.  As  his  eye  swept  over 
the  throng  he  knew  every  countenance  of 
those  who  composed  it.  They  had  been 
his  comrades  for  seven  long  years.  Shoul- 
der to  shoulder  they  liad  moved  beside  him 
in  the  deadly  conflict.  He  had  heard 
their  battle-slioutoii  the  flelds  of  his  fame 
as  they  bore  him  on  to  victory.  Brave 
men  were  they  all,  on  whom  he  had 
relied,  and  not  in  vain,  in  the  hour  of 
deadly  peril.  A  thousand  proofs  of  their 
devotion  came  rusliing  back  on  his  mem- 
ory, and  their  toilsand  snfferingrose  before 
him  till  his  heart  swelled  over  them  in  af- 
fection and  sorrow.  He  could  have  no 
words  of  rebuke  for  them — only  words  of 
love  and  sympathy.  Absorbed  in  his 
feelings  lie  forgot  his  .spectacles  as  he  un- 
rolled lii.s  manuscript.  Pausing  he  took 
them  from  his  pocket,  and  remarked,  in  a 
tone  subdued  by  emotion,  "These  eyes, 
my  friends,  have  grown  dim,  and  these 
locks  white  in  the  service,  yet  I  never 
doubted  the  justice  of  my  country. "  They 
were  simple  words,  but  the  sad,  suppress- 
ed tone  in  which  they  were  uttered  sent  a 
thrill  through  the  room,  and  lips  quivered 
and  eyes  moistened  that  had  never  blanch- 
ed in  the  fiercest  whii-lwind  of  battle.  He 
began  this  immortal  address  by  referring 
to  the  anonymous  writer  of  the  appeal,  and 
denouncing  liis  conduct  and  advice  in  un- 
sparing language,  and  then  with  a  clianged 
voice  spoke  of  the  army,  its  sufl^erings  and 
devotion,  of  his  own  deep  abiding  attach- 
ment to  it,  saying  that  he  had  always  been 
its  "faithful  friend";  had  never  left  it 
except  when  called  away  by  duty,  but  had 
ever  been  its  companion  in  distress  and 


danger;  that  he  had  rejoiced  when  he 
heard  it  praised,  and  was  filled  with  in- 
dignation when  it  was  traduced;  that  his 
own  fame  was  inseparably  bound  up  in  its 
glory,  and  that  it  could  "  not  be  supposed 
that  at  this  late  stage  of  the  war  he  was 
indifferent  to  its  interests,"  and  pledged 
himself  then  and  there  anew  to  see  all 
their  wrongs  redressed,  all  tlieir  rights  es- 
tablished. As  his  deejiening  voice  re-as- 
serted his  love  for  the  army  and  steadfast 
adlierence  to  its  fortunes,  eyes  unaccus- 
tomed to  weep  overflowed  with  tears. 
Taking  fire,  as  he  proceeded,  at  the  infa- 
mous advice  to  take  up  arms  against  tlieir 
country,  he  exclaims,  "My  God !  whatcan 
this  writer  have  in  view  in  recommending 
such  measures  ?  Can  he  be  a  friend  to  the 
country?  No;  he  is  plotting  the  ruin  of 
both! 

"Let  me  conjure  you  in  the  name  of 
our  common  country,  as  you  value  your 
own  sacred  honor,  as  you  respect  the 
rights  of  liumanity,  as  you  regard  the 
military  or  national  character  of  Ameri- 
ca, to  express  your  utmost  horror  and  de- 
testation of  the  man  who  wishes  under 
any  specious  pretense  to  overturn  the  lib- 
erties of  our  country,  and  who  wickedly 
attempts  to  open  the  flood-gates  of  civil 
discord,  and  deluge  our  rising  empire  in 
blood."  He  urged  them  to  exhibit  the 
same  steadfast  patriotism  and  devotion  to 
duty  that  had  ever  characterized  tliem, 
and  wait  patiently  for  the  justice  tlieir 
country  was  sure  to  render  them.  He 
closed  this  noble  address  in  the  following 
impressive  language:  "  By  thus  determin- 
ing and  acting  you  will  pui-sue  the  plain 
and  direct  road  to  the  attainment  of  your 
wishes;  you  will  defeat  the  insidious  de- 
signs of  our  enemies,  who  are  compelled 
to  resort  from  open  force  to  secret  arti- 
fice; and  you  will  give  one  more  distin- 
guislied  proof  of  unexampled  patriotism 
and  patient  virtue,  rising  superior  to  the 
most  complicated  sufferings,  and  you  will 
by  tlie  dignity  of  your  conduct  att'ord  oc- 
casion for  posterity  to  say,  when  speak- 
ing of-  the  glorious  example  you  have  ex- 
hibited to  mankind  :  Had  this  day  been 
wanting,  the  world  had  never  seen  the 
last  stage  of  jierfection  to  which  human 
virtue  is  capable  of  attaining." 

With  a  stately  bow  he  descended  the 
platform  and  walked  out  of  the  building. 
As  he  passed  through  the  door,  Knox  imme 
diately  arose  and  moved  that  the  thanks  of 
the  otficers  be  tendered  to  the  commander- 


LAST  DAYS  OF  WASHINGTON'S  ARMY  AT  NEWBURGH. 


665 


WASHINGTON    AND    HIS   GKNERALS    IN    CONSULTATION,  MARCH    IS,  1T83. 


in-chief  for  his  address,  and  to  "assure  him 
that  the  officers  reciprocated  his  affection- 
ate expressions  with  the  greatest  shiceri- 
ty  of  whicli  the  human  heart  is  capable.'^ 
Other  resolutions  followed,  which  were 
unanimously  carried.  The  deed  was  done, 
the  rising-  storm  sank  to  rest,  and  the 
terrible  crisis  was  past.  It  was  no  figure 
of  speech  when  he  said  that  the  course 
advi-sed  by  this  anonymous  writer  would 
drench  this  rising  empire  in  blood.  Civil 
war  would  inevitably  have  followed,  the 
divided  colonies  easily  fallen  again  into 
the  hands  of  England. 

Washington  rode  back  to  his  head- 
quarters, and  received  with  a  relieved 
and  happy  heart  the  congratulations  of 
his  officers.*  The  rumors  of  peace  that 
now  from  time  to  time  reached  the  army 
were  at  length  con  tinned,  and  on  the 
11th  of  April  Congress  issued  a  procla- 


*  It  was  iifterwarJ  (iiscovercii  tliat  tliis  daiigei'oua 
appeal  was  wiitteii  liy  Jlajoi-  John  Armstrong,  an 
ai(io-cliM-anip  of  Gate:?.  It  is  lint  justice  to  say  that 
after  Washington  lieeaEue  Presiileiit,  lie,  after  liear- 
ing  Armstrong's  vindication  of  liiinsclf,  acunitted 
him  of  acting  from  treasonable  motives. 


ination  that  hostilities  had  ceased,  but 
Washington  did  not  make  it  known  till 
the  18th.  In  the  earlier  years  of  the  war 
men  had  enlisted  for  a  certain  time,  but 
this  time  often  expiring  at  the  beginning 
or  in  the  middle  of  a  campaign,  it  caused 
great  confusion  and  often  disastei',  .so  that 
at  length  they  were  enlisted  for  the  war; 
and  Washington  was  troubled  lest  the  men 
should  construe  this  proclamation  as  end- 
ing the  war,  and  demand  their  immediate 
discharge.  Still  he  saw  it  could  not  be 
kept  secret,  and  he  issued  an  order  on  the 
18th  of  April  announcing  it. 

"  llEAD-QCARTERS.  Hewbuugu,  April  18,  1783. 
''Tlio  conmiamler-iu-fliief  orileis  the  ce.ssa- 
tioii  of  liostilities  Itetweeu  the  t'liited  States 
of  America  and  the  King  olUieHt  Hrilnin  to 
111!  putilicly  read  to-nioirow  at  12  o'eioclv  at 
the  new  Imilding,  and  the  iiroelnnialion  which 
will  lie  coinnmnicaled  lierewitli  to  lie  read  to- 
morrow evening  al  the  head  of  every  regiment 
and  corps  of  tlie  army.  .M'ter  wliich  the  eliap- 
lains  witli  tln^  sineral  lirigades  will  render 
thanks  to  Almighty  (iod  for  all  His  mercies, 
particnlarly  for  His  ovcrrnling  Ihe  wralli  of 
men  to  His  own  glory,  ami  causing  the  rage 
of  war  to  cease  among  Ihe  nations.'' 


666 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


He  thcu  goes  on  to  say  tliat  having  ac- 
complished such  glorious  results,  and 
preserved  such  a  noble  character  through 
all  their  trials,  and  immortalized  tlieni- 
selves  by  receiving  the  appellation  of  the 
"Patriot  Army,"  nothing  more  remains 
but  to  maiutain  that  character  to  the  very 
last  act,  and  close  the  drama  with  ap- 
plause, and  retire  from  the  military  thea- 
tre with  the  same  approbation  of  men 
and  angels  \yhich  has  crowned  all  their 
former  virtuous  actions.  To  secure  this 
end,  he  says,  strict  discipline  must  be 
maintained  until  Congress  shall  order 
their  final  discharge.  He  promises  them 
his  aid  and  influence,  but  in  the  mean  time 
is  determined  that  "no  military  neglects 
or  excesses  shall  go  unpunished." 

After  giving  directions  about  prepara- 
tions for  the  celebration,  the  proclama- 
tion concludes  witli  the  following  signifi- 
cant sentence,  wliich  doubtless  conveyed 
more  meaning  to  many  a  poor  half-starved 
soldier  than  all  the  high  com])liments  that 
had  preceded  it :  "  An  extra  ration  of  1  iquor 
to  be  issued  to  every  man  to-morrow,  to 
drink  perpetual  peace  and  independence 
and  happiness  to  the  United  States  of 
America." 

Accompanying  tiiis  proclamation  for  a 
day  of  jubilee,  which  is  an  excellent  ex- 
ample of  Washington's  remarkable  sa- 
gacity, he  issued  the  next  day  the  follow- 
ing order  for  anotlier  celebration,  that  has 
only  recently  come  to  light,  and  shows 
that,  considering  the  poverty  of  tlie  sol- 
diers and  citizens  at  that  time,  it  must  have 
been  on  a  grand  scale: 

Newburciii  Head-quarters,  Ap/il  19,  178:3. 
To  erect  a  fiaiiio  for  an   illiuiiiuatiou  the 
several  corps  of  the  caiitoninoMt  are  to  8C]nare 
and  tleliver  at  the  new  buihlin;:;,  ou  Monday 
next,  the  following  pieces  of  tiniljcr,  viz. : 

Feet      Inches 
Pieces.    Lntig.    Squiire. 

Maryland  Detachment 29  30  7 

Jersey  Reghnent. 5  30  7 

Jersey  Battahon 2  30  7 

First  New  York  Re>;iiiK'nt 2  30  7 

Second  New  York  Jlegiinent 3  30  7 

Hampsliire  Reginjcnt 8  18  7 

Hanipsliire  Battalion 3  18  7 

First  Massachusetts  Regiment  .. .  !l  IS  7 

Fourth  Massachusetts  Regiment. .  8  18  7 

Seventh  Massachusetts  Regiment  •)      <       ,  o        L 

Second  Massachusetts  Regiment.  .      8       10        7 

Fifth  Massachusetts  Regiment,  •■jo         o        7 

Eighth  Massachusetts  Regiment . .  16  S  7 

(  2  14  7 

Third  Massachusetts  Regiment  .  ■{  3  15  7 

(  6  11  7 


Here  are  more  than  a  luindred  pieces  of 
timber,  all  but  a  few  from  thirty  to  nine- 
teen feet  long-  and  seven  inches  square,  for 
a  frame  on  which  to  hang  lights.  This 
would  be  considered  a  gigantic  operation 
at  the  present  day  even.  But  who  in  the 
Continental  army  could  get  up  such  a 
display  ?  This  is  explained  by  the  follow- 
ing order  issued  the  next  day.  "Each 
commanding  officer  of  a  brigade  is  request- 
ed to  ai)point  an  officer  to  assist  Colonel 
Gouvion  in  making  preparations  for  the  il- 
lumination. Colonel  Gouvion  will  meet 
the  oflicers  at  12  o'clock  to-morrow  at  the 
new  building."  It  is  seen  that  a  French 
officer  familiar  with  such  displays  got  uj) 
the  affair,  and  as  Continental  money  was 
so  worthless  it  would  take  a  cart-load  to 
buy  a  cliicken,  it  is  fair  to  presume  that 
French  money  paid  for  it.  A  busy  scene 
followed.  Where  now  are  richly  cultiva- 
ted farms,  great  forests  stood,  which  were 
soon  filled  with  soldiers;  and  laughter  and 
song  mingled  witli  the  .sound  of  the  axe 
and  crashing  of  trees — felled  not  for  the 
purpose  of  building  breastworks,  but  for 
the  celebration  of  peace.  Seventeen  regi- 
ments and  battalions  swarming  the 
woods,  some  hewing  the  timbers  and  oth- 
ers bearing  them  on  their  shoulders  to 
their  place  of  destination,  made  an  excit- 
itig  scene.  Their  arms  were  left  in  their 
huts,  and  though  many  were  shoeless  and 
in  rags,  cold  and  wet  were  alike  forgotten 
in  the  approaching  day  of  jtibilee. 

Although  thehrst  formal  celebration  was 
to  commence  at  12  o'clock  witli  prayer,  an 
anthem  of  praise  accompanied  by  the 
band,  and  followed  by  three  thundering 
liuzzas,  the  excited  soldiers  could  not  wait 
till  then,  but  ushered  in  the  day  with  fir- 
ing of  guns  and  shouts  and  songs  till  hill 
and  valley  rang  again.  Heath  says  that 
the  eflfect  was  gr;uid  when  the  army  with 
excited  voices  thundered  forth  the  antliem 
"Independence,"  by  Billings: 

"The  States,  0  Lord,  with  songs  of  praise 
Shall  in  Thy  strength  rejoice; 
And,  blest  with  Thy  salvation,  raise 
To  heaven  their  clieerful  voice." 

And  from  plain  and  hill-top,  field  and  for- 
est, there  rose  strong  and  great  against 
the  sky, 

".^nd  all  the  Continent  shall  ring, 
Down  with  this  earthly  king  ; 
No  king  but  God." 

When  niglit  came  the  piles  of  combus- 
tible materials  that  had  been  heaped  on 
the   summits   of   Berean   Mountains   and 


LAST  DAYS  OF  WASHINGTON'S  ARMY  AT  NEWBURGH. 


6()7 


UliACOX-riliES    ON    Tin;    IIL'DSUN    IN    ftl.KISUAI'ION    OV    I'KACt 


Stonn   Kins'  to  signal  tlio  advaiicp   of  the  ein-m_v 
were  lighted  np,  not  to  herald  the  approach  of  the 

foe,  but  blazed  from  their  lofty  tops  like  great  altar  fires  to  tlie  God  of  ])ea('(-. 
In  June  furloughs  were  granted,  and  the  army  dwindled  awa\-.      Still  a 

Vol.  I.XVII -Xo.  401.— 42 


668 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


portion  was  left  to  guard  tlie  stores  and 
remove  tliein  when  peace  should  be  estab- 
lished. Besides,  there  were  a  great  many 
invalids;  many  had  no  homes  to  go  to; 
many  were  in  rags  and  not  fit  to  be  seen 
on  the  highways ;  and  others  who  had  no 
means  of  getting  away,  and  could  travel 
only  as  beggars,  preferred  to  remain  be- 
hind and  wait  for  their  long-promised  pay. 
But  at  length  the  treaty  of  peace  was 
concluded,  and  the  army  must  be  disband- 
ed. This  was  the  last  and  most  touching 
act  in  the  whole  drama.  The  joy  of  the 
celeljration  was  now  forgotten  in  the  sad- 
ne.ss  of  parting  and  the  gloomy  prospect 
before  them.  On  the  uKsrning  of  the  3d 
of  November  the  few  remaining  troops  as- 
sembled for  the  last  time,  and  here 

"  In  their  rngpeil  refrimcntals 
Stood  the  old  Continentals," 

to  hear  the  farewell  address  of  their  great 
leader.  Never  more  would  they  behold 
him  in  their  midst,  never  again  see  him 
ride  along  their  firm-set  lines,  the  light  of 
battle  in  his  eye,  and  words  of  encourage- 
ment on  his  lijis.  Years  of  connnon  suf- 
fering and  common  danger  had  endeared 
him  to  them,  and  in  the  sorrow  of  that 
final  parting  the  joys  of  peace  were  re- 
membered no  more.  When  the  reading 
was  finished,  the  band  struck  up  the  tune  of 
"  Roslyn  Castle,''  which  was  always  play- 
ed when  tliey  bore  a  dead  comrade  to  his 
grave,  and  as  the  mournful  .strains  linger- 
ed on  the  air  they  broke  ranks  for  the  last 
time,  and  the  last  of  the  glorious  Revolu- 
tionary army  disappeared  from  sight  for- 
ever, but  yet  to  live  in  the  memory  and  af- 
fection of  the  country  they  saved,  and  be 
again  summoned  in  imagination  from  their 
graves  in  these  centennial  years  to  receive 
the  plaudits  of  their  descendants.  The 
scene  that  followed  was  heart-rending. 
Many  a  gallant  officer  whose  sword  had 
flashed  along  the  line  in  the  smoke  of  bat- 
tle must  now  give  it  up,  and  penniless  beg 
his  way  as  a  pauper  to  his  long-abandoned 
and  impoverished  home. 

Says  Dr.  Thatcher,  who  was  present: 
"  Painful  was  the  parting;  no  description 
can  be  adequate  to  the  tragic  exhibition. 
Botii  officers  and  soldiers,  long  unaccu.s- 
tomed  to  the  affairs  of  private  life,  were 
turned  loose  upon  the  world.  Never  can 
the  day  be  forgotten  when  friends  and 
companions  for  seven  years  in  joy  and 
sorrow  were  torn  asunder  without  the 
hojje  of  ever  meeting  again,  and  witli  the 


prospect  of  a  miserable  subsistence  in  tlie 
future." 

Major  North,  another  witness  of  the 
painful  scene,  says:  "The  inmates  of  the 
same  tent  for  seven  long  years  grasped 
each  other's  hands  in  silent  agony;  to  go 
they  knew  not  whither;  all  recollection 
of  the  art  to  thrive  by  civil  service  lost, 
or  to  the  youthful  never  known ;  their 
hard-earned  military  knowledge  worse 
tiian  useless,  and  to  be  cast  out  into  the 
world  by  them  long  since  forgotten;  to 
go  in  silence  and  alone,  and  poor  and 
helpless.  It  was  too  hard.  Oh,  on  that 
sad  day  how  many  hearts  were  wrung! 
I  saw  it  all,  nor  will  tlie  scene  be  ever 
blotted  from  my  view." 

The  brave,  kind-hearted  Steuben  looked 
on  the  scene  with  pitying  eyes.  Seeing 
Colonel  Cochrane,  a  brave,  gallant  officer, 
standing  apart  and  leaning  on  his  sword, 
while  his  face  expres.sed  the  deepest  sad- 
ness, he  approached  him  and  said,  "Clieei- 
up;  better  times  are  coming." 

"For  myself,"  replied  the  officer,  "I 
can  stand  it  ;  but,"  jjointing  to  a  mere 
hovel  near  by,  he  added,  "my  wife  and 
daughters  are  in  that  wretched  tavern.  I 
have  nowhere  to  carry  them,  nor  even 
money  to  remove  them." 

"Come,  come,"  said  the  baron;  "I  will 
pay  my  respects  to  Mrs.  Cochrane  and 
your  daughters;''  and  leaving  him  stand- 
ing alone,  he  strode  away  to  the  tavern, 
where  he  found  the  ladies  sunk  in  de- 
spondency. The  sight  was  too  much  for 
the  brave  old  veteran,  and  emptying  his 
puree  on  the  table,  he  hastened  away  to 
escape  their  tears  and  their  blessings. 

Some  left  by  water  in  sloops,  and  some 
on  foot,  and  soon  the  last  tent  was  struck, 
and  the  flag  that  had  swung  for  nuirethan 
a  year  and  a  half  from  this  old  building 
was  taken  down,  the  last  morning  and 
evening  gun  had  been  fired,  and  silence 
and  .solitude  fell  on  the  place. 

The  bi'ave  men,  scattered  over  the  coun- 
try they  liad  saved,  were  imjjoverished, 
and  smarting  under  the  sense  of  injustice 
on  the  part  of  the  government,  and  would 
have  been  left  in  doubt  and  uncertainty  as 
to  their  future  course  but  for  the  farewell 
address  of  Washington.  These  his  last 
parting  words  to  them  became  a  law  of 
action,  a  cliart  by  which  to  guide  their 
conduct,  and  tlirough  its  silent,  unseen  in- 
fluence the  dangerous,  tui-bulent  element, 
that  at  one  time  threatened  to  be  too  strong 
even  for  Washington, became  tranquil,  un- 


LAST  DAYS  OF  WASHINGTON'S  ARMY  AT  NEWBURGH. 


669 


til  the  nation,  slowly  lifting  its  head  out 
of  its  sea  of  troubles,  arose  strong  and  com- 
placent and  secure. 

This  farewell  address,  dated  the  day  be- 
fore the  disbandment  oi  the  army,  after 
speaking  of  the  proclamation  of  Congress 
to  that  end,  and  its  testimony  "to  the 
merits  of  the  federal  armies,"  says: 

"It  only  remains  for  the  commander- 
in-chief  to  address  himself  once  more,  and 
that  for  the  last  time,  to  the  armies  of  the 
United  States  (however  widely  dispersed), 
and  to  bid  them  an  alt'ectionate  and  long 
farewell.  But  before  the  commander-in- 
chief  takes  his  final  leave  of  those  he 
holds  most  dear,  he  wishes  to  indulge 
himself  a  few  moments  in  calling  to  mind 
a  slight  review  of  the  past.  He  will  then 
take  the  liberty  of  exploring  with  his  mil- 
itary friends  their  future  prospects,  of  ad- 
vising the  general  line  of  conduct  which 
in  his  opinion  ought  to  be  pursued,  and  he 
will  conclude  the  address  by  expressing 
the  obligations  he  feels  himself  under  for 
the  spirited  and  able  assistance  he  has  ex- 
perienced from  them  in  the  performance 
of  an  arduous  office. 

"A  complete  attainment  (at  a  period 
earlier  than  could  have  been  expected)  of 
the  object  for  winch  we  contended  against 
so  formidable  a  power  can  not  but  inspire 
us  with  astonishment  and  gratitude.  The 
disadvantageous  circumstances  ou  our 
part  under  which  the  war  was  undertaken 
can  never  be  forgotten.  The  singular  in- 
terpositions of  Providence  in  our  feeble 
condition  were  such  as  could  scarcely  es- 
cape the  attention  of  the  most  unobserv- 
ing;  while  the  unparalleled  perseverance 
of  the  armies  of  the  United  States  through 
almost  every  possible  sult'ering  and  dis- 
couragement for  the  space  of  eight  long 
years  was  little  short  of  a  standing  miracle. 

"It  is  not  the  meaning  nor  is  it  within 
the  compass  of  tliis  address  to  detail  the 
hardships  peculiarly  incident  to  our  serv- 
ice, or  to  describe  the  distresses  which  in 
several  instances  have  i-esulted  from  the 
extremes  of  hunger  and  nakedness,  com- 
bined with  the  rigors  of  an  inclement  sea- 
son, nor  is  it  necessary  to  dwell  on  the 
dark  sicle  of  our  past  affairs.  Every 
American  officer  and  soldier  must  now 
console  himself  for  any  unpleasant  cir- 
cumstances which  may  have  occurred  by 
a  recollection  of  the  uncommon  scene  in 
which  he  has  been  called  to  act  no  in- 
glorious part,  and  the  astonishing  events 
of  which  he  has  been  a  witness — events 


which  have  seldom  if  ever  before  taki>n 
place  on  the  stage  of  human  action,  nor 
can  they  probably  ever  happen  again. 
For  wlio  has  ever  before  seen  a  disciplined 
army  formed  at  once  from  such  raw  ma- 
terials ?  Wlio  that  was  not  a  witness 
could  imagine  that  the  most  violent  local 
prejudices  would  cease  so  .soon,  and  that 
men  who  came  from  the  different  parts 
of  the  continent,  strongly  dispi)se<l  by  the 
habits  of  education  to  despi.se  each  other, 
would  instantly  become  but  one  patriotic 
band  of  brothers  ?  Or  who  that  was  not 
on  the  spot  can  trace  the  steps  by  which 
such  a  wonderful  revolution  has  been  ef- 
fected, and  such  a  glorious  period  put  to 
all  our  warlike  toils? 

"  It  is  universally  acknowledged  that  the 
enlarged  prospects  of  happiness  opened  by 
the  confirmation  of  our  independence  and 
sovereignty  almost  exceed  the  power  of 
description.  And  shall  not  the  brave 
men  who  have  contributed  so  essentially 
to  these  inestimable  acquisitions,  retiring 
victorious  from  the  field  of  war  to  the 
field  of  agriculture,  participate  in  all  the 
blessings  which  have  been  obtained?  In 
such  a  republic  who  will  exclude  them 
from  the  rights  of  citizens  and  the  fruits 
of  their  labor  ?  In  such  a  country,  so  hap- 
pily circumstanced,  the  pursuit  of  com- 
mei'ce,  the  cultivation  of  the  soil,  will  un- 
fold to  industry  the  certain  road  to  com- 
petence. To  those  hardy  soldiers  who 
were  actuated  by  the  spirit  of  adventure, 
the  fisheries  will  afford  ample  and  profit- 
able employment,  and  the  extensive  and 
fertile  fields  of  the  West  will  yield  a  most 
happy  asylum  to  those  who,  fond  of  do- 
mestic enjoyment,  are  seeking  for  person- 
al independence.  Nor  is  it  possible  to 
conceive  that  any  one  of  the  United  States 
will  prefer  a  national  bankruptcy  and  a 
dissolution  of  the  Union  to  a  compliance 
with  the  requisitions  of  Congress  and  the 
payment  of  its  just  debts,  so  that  the  offi- 
cers and  soldiers  may  expect  considerable 
assistance  in  recommencing  their  civil  oc- 
cupations from  the  sums  due  to  them  from 
the  public,  which  must  and  will  most  in- 
evitably be  paid. 

"In  order  to  effect  this  most  desirable 
pin'po.se,  and  to  remove  the  prejudices 
wliich  may  have  taken  posse.ssion  of  the 
mind  of  any  of  the  good  people  of  the 
United  States,  it  is  earnestly  recommend- 
ed to  all  the  troops  that  with  strong  at- 
tachment to  the  Union  they  should  carry 
with  them  into  civil  society  the  most  con- 


279523 


670 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


KELIC   OF  BUKKEB  UILL. 


COFFEE-POT  AND  PISTOL  TAKEN   FROM 
THE   UESSIANS  AT  TRENTON. 


■WASHINGTON'S  CHAIR.  LADT  WASHINGTON  S 

BRIDAL  WATCU. 


CAMP  BROILER. 


POINT  OF  CHEVAL-DE- 
FRISE  AND  LINK  OF  CHAIN. 


RELICS    IN    WASHINGTON  S    IIKAD-yGARTERS 


ciliating  dispositiou,  and  tliey  sliould 
prove  themselves  not  less  virtuous  and 
useful  citizens  than  they  have  been  per- 
severing and  victorious  soldiers.  What 
though  there  .should  be  .some  envious  in- 
dividuals who  are  unwilling  to  pay  the 
debt  the  public  has  conti-acted,  or  to  yield 
the  tribute  due  to  merit,  yet  let  such  un- 
worthy treatment  produce  no  invectives 
nor  any  instance  of  intemperate  conduct. 
Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  unbiassed 
voice  of  the  free  citizens  of  the  United 
States  has  promised  the  just  reward  and 
given  the  merited  applause.  Let  it  be 
known  and  remembered  that  the  reputa- 
tion  of  the  federal  armies  is  establish3d 


beyond  the  reach  of  malevolence,  and  let 
a  consciousness  of  tlieir  achievements  and 
fame  still  incite  the  men  which  composed 
them  to  honorable  action  under  tlie  per- 
suasion that  the  private  virtues  of  econo- 
my, prudence,  and  industry  will  not  be  less 
amiable  in  civil  life  than  the  more  splen- 
did qualities  of  valor,  perseverance,  and 
enterprise  were  in  the  Held.  Every  one 
may  rest  assured  tluit  much,  very  much,  of 
the  future  happiness  of  the  olficers  and 
men  will  depend  on  the  wise  and  manly 
conduct  which  shall  be  adopted  by  them 
when  they  are  mingled  with  the  great 
body  of  the  community.  And  although 
the  General  has  so  frequently  given  it  as 


LAST  DAYS  OF  WASHINGTON'S  ARMY  AT  NEWBURGH. 


671 


his  opinion  in  tho  most  public  and  explicit 
manner  that  unless  the  principles  of  the 
Feilei-al  {government  were  properly  sup- 
ported, and  the  i)o\vers  of  the  Union  in- 
creased, the  honor,  tlignity.  and  justice  of 
the  nation  would  be  lost  forever,  yet  he 
can  not  hel|>  repeating-  on  this  occasion  so 
interesting  a  sentiment,  and  leave  it  as  his 
la,st  injunction  to  every  othcer  and  every 
soldier  who  may  now  view  the  subject  in 
tlie  same  serious  point  of  light  to  add  his 
best  endeavors  to  those  of  his  worthy  fel- 
low-citizens toward  etf'ecting  these  great 
and  valuable  purposes  on  which  our  very 
existence  as  a  nation  so  materially  de- 
pends. 

■' The  Comniander-iu-chief  conceives  but 
little  now  wanting  to  enable  tlie  soldiers 
to  change  the  military  character  into  that 
of  the  citizen  but  that  steady  and  decent 
tenor  of  behavior  which  has  generally 
distinguished  not  only  the  army  under 
his  immediate  command,  but  the  different 
detachments  and  separate  armies  through 
the  course  of  the  war.  From  their  good 
sense  and  prudence  he  anticipates  the 
happiest  consequences,  and  while  he  con- 
gratulates them  on  the  glorious  occasion 
which  renders  tiieir  service  in  the  field  no 
longer  necessary,  he  wishes  to  express  the 
strong  obligations  he  feels  himself  under 
for  the  assistance  he  has  received  from 
every  class  and  in  every  instance.  He 
presents  his  thanks  in  the  most  serious 
and  atfectionate  manner  to  tlie  general 
officers  as  well  for  their  counsel  on  many 
interesting  occasions  as  for  their  ardor  in 
promoting  tlie  success  of  the  plans  he  had 
adopted;  to  the  commanders  of  regiments 
and  corps  and  to  the  other  otHcers  for 
their  great  zeal  and  attention  in  carrying 
his  orders  i)romptly  into  execution;  to  the 
staff  for  their  alacrity  and  exactness  in 
performing  the  duties  of  their  several  de- 
partments; and  to  the  non-commissioned 
officers  and  private  soldiers  for  their  ex- 
traordinary patience  and  suffering  as  well 
as  their  invincible  fortitude  in  action. 
To  the  various  branches  of  the  army  the 
General  takes  this  last  and  solemn  oppor- 
tunity of  professing  his  inviolable  at- 
tachment and  friendship.  He  wishes  that 
more  than  bare  professions  were  in  his 
power,  that  he  were  really  able  to  be  use- 
ful to  them  all  in  future  life.  He  flatters 
himself,  however,  they  will  do  him  the 
justice  to  believe  tliat  whatever  could 
with  propriety  be  attempted  by  him  has 
been  done. 


■'And  being  now  tocoiu^lude  this  his  last 
public  oi'ders,  to  take  his  ultimate  leave  in 
a  short  time  of  the  military  character,  and 
to  bid  a  linal  adieu  to  the  armies  he  has 
so  long  had  the  honor  to  connnand,  he  can 
only  again  offer  in  their  behalf  his  recom- 
mendations to  their  trrateful  country,  and 
his  prayers  to  the  (xod  of  armies.  May  am- 
ple justice  be  done  them  here,  and  may  the 
choicest  of  Heaven's  favors  both  here  and 
hereaftei-  attend  those  who,  under  the  Di- 
vine auspices,  have  secured  innumerable 
blessings  for  others !  With  these  wishes 
and  these  benedictions,  the  Cominauder- 
in-chief  is  about  to  retire  from  service. 
The  curtain  of  separation  will  soon  be 
drawn,  and  the  military  scene  will  be 
clo.sed  forever." 

The  casual  reader,  or  one  who  does  not 
comprehend  fully  the  circumstances  at 
that  time  or  the  purpose  for  which  it  was 
written,  will  see  in  this  address  only  good 
fatherly  advice,  without  any  particular 
signifleance  or  force.  But  there  never 
was  an  addre.ss  more  carefully  studied,  or 
filled  with  a  loftier  purpose,  nor  better 
adapted  to  produce  great  and  decisive  re- 
sults. It  was  designed  to  hold  that  scat- 
tered, impoverished  army  within  those 
.safe  bounds  without  which  all  would  be 
lost,  and  which  Congress  could  not  do. 
Washington  knew  the  dangerous  temper 
in  which  that  army  had  been  disbanded,  its 
hatred  to  that  government  which  must  be 
upheld  by  them,  or  all  that  had  been  won 
would  be  worse  than  useless,  and  yet  a  gov- 
erunient  for  which  they  had  neither  love 
nor  respect,  but  instead  scorn  and  con- 
tempt. This  was  a  perilous  state  of  things, 
and  there  was  nothing  to  hold  these  neg- 
lected and  often  reckless  men  but  their 
unbounded  love  and  veneration  for  Wash- 
ington. He  had  proved  its  great  strength 
when  the  Newburgli  lettei's  convulsed  the 
army,  and  this  was  his  last  effort  to  em- 
ploy it  for  his  country.  Though  he  had 
condemned  that  government  in  unsparing 
language,  and  told  it  plainly  that  its  con- 
duct imperiled  the  "very  existence  of 
the  nation,"'  yet  he  now  defended  it.  With 
all  its  injustice  and  weakness,  there  was 
nothing  else  to  look  to;  he  therefore 
"  leaves  it  as  his  last  injunction  to  every 
officer  and  .soldier"  to  support  it.  He 
makes  every  possible  appeal  to  them.  He 
reaches  the  consciences  of  these  Puritan 
soldiers  by  telling  them  that  their  won- 
derful success  is  a  standing  miracle, 
brought   about   by  Providence   being  on 


672 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


their  side,  tlius  making  them  look  away 
from  themselves  to  that  Being  they  had 
been  taught  to  reverence.  He  tells  them 
that  the  only  way  to  enjoy  the  priceless 
blessings  they  have  won  is  to  prove  them- 
selves as  wise  and  prudent  citizens  as  they 
have  been  brave  and  self-sacriflcing  sol- 
diers; in  short,  to  show  themselv^es  as 
great  in  peace  as  they  have  proved  great 
in  war.  He  tells  them  of  his  own  un- 
bounded love  for  tlieni,  and  promises  over 
again  that  justice  shall  be  done  them  in 
tlie  future,  and  their  claims  satisfied. 
How  completely  he  sinks  himself,  the 
great  central  figure,  out  of  sight!  He 
does  not  refer  to  his  own  sacrifices  or 
achievements.  He  sees  only  his  country, 
and  thinks  only  of  her  welfare,  and  his 
whole  soul  is  bent  on  keeping  that  army 
which  has  followed  his  fortunes  so  long 
true  to  its  interests.  Viewed  in  this  light 
it  stands  unparalleled  as  a  farewell  address 
from  a  military  chieftain  to  his  soldiers, 
and  shows  a  sagacity  and  far-seeing  glance 
that  seems  more  like  prophetic  vision  than 


human  foresiglit,  and  displays  in  the 
strongest  light  tlie  great  and  lofty  traits 
of  liis  character. 

After  he  has  thus  put  in  their  liands  a 
chart  to  guide  tlieir  future  course,  and 
laid  down  the  onlj-  principles  on  which 
they  can  safely  act,  after  having  done  all 
in  his  power  to  serve  and  save  liis  coun- 
try, he  at  last  lets  his  thoughts  revert 
alone  to  their  bravery,  their  toils  and  de- 
votion, and  as  he  contemplates  his  final 
parting  with  them  forever,  his  heart  gives 
way  to  a  burst  of  affection ;  and  he  bids 
the)n  farewell  with  a  benediction  and 
prayer  for  their  welfare  that  shows  how 
deeply  that  great  heart  was  moved. 

As  one  rises  from  the  study  of  this  ad- 
dress, viewed  in  connection  with  the  times 
and  purpose  for  which  it  was  written,  he 
says,  with  Fislier  Ames:  "Of  those  who 
were  born,  and  who  acted  through  life  as 
if  they  were  born  not  for  themselves  but 
for  their  country,  how  few,  alas,  are  re- 
corded in  the  long  annals  of  the  ages  I 
Two  Washingtons  come  not  in  one  age." 


DALECARLIA. 
II. 


FREE  from  the  oppressive  dictation  of 
a  guide  -  book,  we  wandered  far  into 
Dalecarlia,  wherever  the  picturesqueness 
of  people  or  landscape  led  us,  regardless 
of  the  conventionalities  of  travel.  The 
long  days  of  midsummer,  with  no  dark- 
ness and  little  twilight,  followed  one  an- 
other like  a  succession  of  day-dreams,  for 
no  arbitrary  nature  drove  us  to  bed  or 
summoned  us  to  rise.  At  midnight  we 
were  sometimes  working  on  sunset-color 
studies  or  sitting  at  tlie  window  reading. 
We  started  for  our  day's  walk  an  hour  aft- 
er supper,  sleeping  when  we  were  sleepy, 
and  eating  when  we  were  hungry.  How 
long  a  man  accustomed  to  a  lower  lati- 
tude could  endure  the  dissipation  of  this 
irregular  life  we  did  not  discover,  for  our 
experiment  was  not  long  enough  to  fix 
the  limit  of  our  endurance.  For  a  while 
at  least  it  was  an  agreeable  change,  and 
we  looked  forward  to  dark  nights  with  no 
pleasant  anticipation.  Tliere  came  contin- 
ually to  mind  the  complaint  of  the  thrifty 
New  England  housewife,  who,  although 
rising  at  dawn,  and  continuing  her  work 
by  evening  candle-light,  never  thinks  her 
daj''  half  long  enough  for  the  hundred  du- 
ties that  ai'e  crowded  into  it.    But  the  Dale- 


carlian  farmer  doubtless  finds  his  working 
hours  as  many  as  human  nature  can  en- 
dure, for  he  is  obliged  in  this  short  season 
to  make  up  for  the  long  and  dark  winter, 
when  candles  are  lighted  in  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon,  and  the  cattle  do  not  leave 
the  barns  for  months.  The  farm -boy 
hitches  up  the  horses  to  harrow  at  ten 
o'clock  in  the  evening;  toward  midnig-ht 
the  carts  laden  with  hay  rumble  along 
the  village  streets,  and  tliere  are  sounds  of 
life  all  night  long.  Even  the  birds  scarce- 
ly know  when  to  cease  singing,  and  their 
twitter  may  be  heard  far  into  the  evening. 
Rise  wlien  you  like  in  tlie  morning,  and 
you  will  always  find  the  farmer  already 
at  work.  In  the  Iieat  of  high  noon  lie 
may  be  asleep  in  his  wooden  bunk  in  the 
living-room,  but  most  of  the  day  the  liouse 
is  deserted,  and  the  key  hangs  on  the  door 
jamb  or  is  stuclv  in  the  shingles  of  the 
low  porch.  Tlie  laborers  come  in  for  their 
dinner  after  hours  of  dusty  work  in  the 
fields.  A  huge  copper  pot  is  brought  out 
in  tlie  middle  of  the  court-yard  and  filled 
with  water.  The  girls  take  off  their  ker- 
chiefs and  bathe  their  arms  and  necks, 
huddling  together  in  the  shade  of  the 
porch.     Men  follow,  and  repeat  the  oper- 

AT 

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